earrings? My husband'll be right here.
- He's got the money.
- We changed our mind.
It's fifteen versts to the town.
It's going to be dark soon.
That's all right, don't worry.
A man has but one body,
Like a single cell.
The soul is sick and tired
Of its too solid shell,
With ears, mouth, eyes
The size of a nickel coin
And skin all scarred and diced,
Spread over a skeleton.
Through cornea it wings
To a heavenly spring,
To ice-laden slings,
To a chariot birds bring.
It hears through the grating
Of its living prison pen
The fields' and forests' rattling,
The Seven Seas' refrain.
Without body a soul's nude,
As a body's nude without a shirt:
No thought's forthcoming, no good,
No idea's born and no word.
A question that has no answer:
Whoever can come back
From the floor where no dancer
Was ever to leave track?
I dream of another soul,
In quite a different garb:
While shifting between dole
And hope, it burns up,
Like alcohol, and goes
Away, casts no shadow
And just leaves as mementoes
The lilacs smelling of meadow.
Run on, my child, do not lament
The fate of poor Eurydice,
Just keep on driving to globe's end
Your copper hoop for all to see.
As long as answering to your step,
However slight might be a tone,
The earth sends signals gay and pep
To every energetic bone.
Mom, the kerosene stove is smoking.
What?
Everything will depend on him.
Do you think a sore throat could
have such an after-effect?
A sore throat has nothing to do
with it.
- This is a common case.
- Common?
A mother dies suddenly,
then the man's wife and child...
A few days and the man is no more,
though he was quite healthy.
But no one died in his family.
There're such things as conscience...
memories...
What memories have to do it with it?
- You think he's guilty of something?
- He thinks so.
Leave me alone.
- Did you say something?
- Leave me alone!
I just wanted to be happy.
And what's going to happen to your
mother if you don't get up?
It's nothing, everything will be
all right...
Everything will be...
Would you rather have a boy
or a girl?
The EndMOSFILM
Fourth Artists' Association
What is your first name,
your last name?
My name is Yuri Zhary.
Where did you come from?
I came from Kharkov.
What school do you go to?
I go to a technical school.
Now we're going
to have a seance.
You just look at me.
Look me in the eye.
Look in front ofyou.
Turn around, with your back to me.
Concentrate on my hand.
My hand is drawing you back.
Spread your hands.
Concentrate. All your tension
is centered in your hands.
Your hands are strained!
Concentrate all ofyour
will power,
your big desire to win,
on your hands.
Your hands are getting
more and more tense.
They're very tense.
Still more tense.
Look at your fingers.
Your fingers are tense.
From here the tension passes on
to your fingers.
Look at your hands.
Yura, concentrate!
On my count ofthree
your hands will become immobile.
One, two, three!
Your hands don't move.
You can't move them.
You're trying to move your hands,
but they're fixed.
It's very hard for you
to make a slightest movement.
Now I'm going to lift
this transfixion,
and you'll be able to speak
freely, easily and articulately.
From now on you will speak
loudly and clearly.
Look at me.
I'm lifting the tension
from your hands and your speech.
One, two, three!
Go ahead, say loudly and clearly:
I can speak!
MIRROR
Margarita TEREKHOVA
as Mother and Natalya
Written by Alexander MISHARIN
and Andrei TARKOVSKY
Directed by Andrei TARKOVSKY
Director of Photography
Georgy RERBERG
Production Designer
Nikolai DVIGUBSKY
Music by Eduard ARTEMYEV
Sound by Semyon LITVINOV
English Subtitles by
Tatiana KAMENEVA
Also starring
I. DANILTSEV
L. TARKOVSKAYA, A. DEMIDOVA
A. SOLONITSYN
N. GRINKO
T. OGORODNIKOVA
Yu. NAZAROV, O. YANKOVSKY
F. YANKOVSKY
Yu. SVENTIKOV, T. RESHETNIKOVA
Author's text narrated by
l. SMOKTUNOVSKY
Verses by Arseny